“They hung the key on a nail behind the big fuchsia at the front door. Ann always wondered why they locked the door at all, but neither Riddle nor Mrs. Halliday would have gone to sleep behind an unlocked door. It was a real villa door that shut with a spring lock, so they only had to hang up the key and give it a good bang—“And like as not Jimmy won’t be back till breakfast time,” said Mrs. Halliday. “Comes of a poaching stock on both sides of the family, and when it’s that way, they’d sooner b...e out nights than in their beds.” Ann wondered when Charles would come back, or whether he would come back at all. The strange, floating sound of his voice rang in her head—sound without words, sound like water flowing, and in the middle of it one sharp island of a word—“back.” She was sure that the word was “back.” She went to her room, but she didn’t undress. She knelt down by the open window and thought about what Charles would do. He would go away for the night and perhaps come back again in the morning, when he might hope that the boat would be in, and that there would be someone there to put him across.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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